


Schrodinger's Soulmate

by SunnySinclair



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bad People Do Bad Things, Civil War (Marvel), Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Natasha is better than everyone, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 05:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10404801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySinclair/pseuds/SunnySinclair
Summary: He stared down at her, mouth hanging open, before a voice in his head made his eyes snap back to the alley. There was no sign of Bucky now and he barely bit back a curse. Looking down at the woman again, he hauled her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her with everything he had.Steve meets his soulmate, but in a brilliant show of poor life choices, says nothing. When he finally meets her again she's got a ring on her finger and a man who's apparently her soulmate on her arm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first long-ish, multi-chapter fic! I'm very excited to have actually finished it.  
> Huge thanks to [Phoenix_173](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_173) for being my beta and picking up all my dropped words and grammar fails!  
> There is angst ahead! You can yell at me about it hurting at the end, but don't say you weren't warned.

For the most part Steve forgot about his soulmark. Not because he didn’t want it, or didn’t want to finally meet the person, but it was a distraction he could rarely afford these days. He hadn’t really dwelt on it much even back in his original life either, convinced he would die and leave his soulmate scarred all too soon, and then busy with the war and pretending he wasn’t disappointed that Peggy wasn’t it for him. 

And once he’d woken from the ice there had been Loki and war all over again, and then SHIELD had him running missions, and now… Now his time and his mind were better spent on hunting HYDRA down and burning them to the ground.

And, in his preciously brief spare time, Bucky. Trying to find him any way. The skills HYDRA had built upon and exploited were serving him well in hiding from Steve and anyone else who could be looking for him. 

He was focused on Bucky so hard these days that of course fate had to step in and put her in his path now. 

With Sam by his side, Steve had followed a lead up to Northwest Canada, so close to the border they were practically in Alaska. Whitehorse, of all places. What Bucky was doing in the Yukon in Winter was beyond him, but no amount of confusion (and adversity to frigid temperatures) was going to keep him from going after their first real lead in months. Even when that lead was grainy and of impossibly poor quality for a security system.

With his hat pulled down and the lower half of his face covered by a coarse beard, Steve had gone in and shown a photo of Bucky to the old man behind the counter at the grocers. His heart soared when the elderly man had smiled and nodded in recognition, not of him but of Bucky.

“Oh yeah, that one’s in ‘ere regular, I reckon. Dropped by about an hour or so ago eh.”

“Do you know where he’s living? Which way he went?” Steve demanded desperately, hardly believing it could be this easy. 

“Don’t know about an address, but he goes that’a’way most o’ the time when he leaves.” A gnarled finger pointed to the left and Steve barely remembered to say thank you before he was heading for the door.

He froze just one step outside though, staring at the sky over head with wide eyes. His breath caught at how beautiful it was. Bands of green light undulated with dashes of violet, the stars peering through the vibrant colours. It was hard to tear his eyes away from the natural wonder now he’d seen it. The Aurora hadn’t even crossed his mind as they’d headed North, so focused on finding his friend. He made a mental note to come back, when he finally had some down time. If he ever had down time. 

With more effort than it should have taken, Steve lowered his eyes back to Earth and turned left, thinking he’d find another store to show Bucky’s photo. 

It was only a tiny movement that caught his eye, a darker shadow shifting in the gloom of a narrow alleyway across the road. Steve’s eyes snapped to it though and he only needed that microsecond to recognise him.

Bucky.

Eyes trained on the man he moved, darting over the road and giving no heed to anything else around, not even the cars on the road. And In his distraction he managed to walk right into a woman. A woman who was much smaller than him and promptly ended up on her rear on the snowy sidewalk. 

“Fucknuggets!” She swore as she landed. “That really hurts!”

Steve just about thought his legs were going to give out under him and he’d be on the ground with her. Those words had been branded on his forearm since he was a child. 

He stared down at her, mouth hanging open, before a voice in his head made his eyes snap back to the alley. There was no sign of Bucky now and he barely bit back a curse. Looking down at the woman again, he hauled her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her with everything he had.

And then he was off running, promising himself he’d find her again. Just as soon as he had Bucky back he’d find her again.

***

Of all the places Jane had run off to with Darcy at her heels, this was by far the best. Sure it was snowy and cold all the time, but there was just something special about living beneath the Northern Lights. While Jane carried out her research (something about the lights potentially providing the perfect atmospheric conditions for her bridge), Darcy wiled away hours admiring the spectacle in the sky. She couldn’t help but think how perfect it would be to meet her soulmate under those lights, how romantic it would be, and more than once a hand drifted to her hip to hover over her soulmark.

They’d been staying outside Whitehorse for a little over a month, the science centre there more than willing to host the great Dr Foster for as long as she wanted, and Darcy had gotten familiar with the town. Familiar enough that the bartender knew what drink she’d want before she even ordered it, and when she walked into the diner before noon Betsy, the waitress, was already scribbling her regular order down. It was a good time and a good place for Darcy.

Even if it had it’s crazy moments. Like getting slammed to the ground by a guy who could rival Thor in the woah muscles department. And to think, she just thought today was going to be about getting marshmallows for the bonfire. 

That same guy sweeping her into his arms and planting the sort of kiss on her that was usually reserved for the cover of a harlequin novel before running off without a word was definitely an improvement on the plan. She’d have preferred it ending with grabbing a coffee and maybe getting some more swoon-worthy kisses instead of the running away bit though.

Darcy watched him disappear (and damn, asses like that were totally the reason jeans were so awesome) then looked up at the lights in the sky and shook her head. “Couldn’t’ve had that be my soulmate and give me the whole romantic meet-cute thing could you?”

Of course the sky didn’t have an answer, so Darcy just shrugged and carried on. The bonfire would already be kicking off and the s’mores weren’t going to make themselves.

***

Much to Steve’s dismay he didn’t manage to catch up to Bucky that afternoon. They found the apartment he had been renting the next morning but it was obvious he’d cleared out already - there was a floorboard tossed halfway across the room, the space beneath a gaping, empty hole. Steve sighed sadly as he took the place in – the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter, still fresh. The brightly coloured blanket tossed over the sofa. A couple of dog eared magazines. Small signs that Bucky was still in there, even if it was just small pieces right now.

“Got intel he hopped the first bus out this morning, heading for Calgary.” Sam said, leaning in the doorway.

“He’ll ditch before then.”

“Probably. But this is the closest we’ve got, so if you don’t want him getting too much of a lead we should get going.”

Steve gave another sigh and his shoulders dropped. Sam clapped a hand on one and gave him what was meant to be a reassuring look.

“He can’t get too far with nothing but a bus and his feet. We’ll find him again. Besides, there had to be a reason he came here. We figure that out we might get a jump on where he’s headed.”

Steve attempted a smile and bolstered himself. “Maybe he just liked the view.” 

Sam laughed and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “Couldn’t blame him if he did. What, you want I should be getting some eyes out at Niagara next? Pretty awesome views there too.”

Steve appreciated Sam’s ability to stay positive, but it didn’t really make a dent in Steve’s misery. He hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting his soulmate, or how he’d run off without saying anything to let her know. He knew Sam would give him grief about it and would probably insist they find her right now. One part of Steve knew he should do exactly that, at least to meet her and make her aware they were soulmates, explain why he couldn’t stick around, but Bucky had hours on them already, and traipsing around Whitehorse looking for one woman would just give him a few more. 

It all came down to the simple truth of Steve’s life; Bucky came first. Being with his soulmate might make Steve happy, but Bucky came first. Until the end of the line, always. 

Even knowing he was following the right path, Steve couldn’t help staring at the town getting smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror as they drove away though, a part of him left there until he could find her again.


	2. Chapter 2

The months passed in a blur. When there wasn’t another battle to face his focus was on finding Bucky (who had very successfully used those couple of hours to vanish completely). There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about the woman in Whitehorse though, and he was thankful for his eidetic memory keeping her face fresh in his mind.

And the feel of her lips, the curve of her hip…

He never let himself think too far beyond that. With Ultron and Sokovia it had been hammered home again how temporary life was. Even with the Avengers there to fight for the world, there was no guarantee.

There was definitely no guarantee he’d be walking away from it.

Standing on the edge of that floating city, Steve knew he was about to die, and even though he felt a certain amount of peace with the idea - his life for millions of others across the planet was more than a fair trade - he had his regrets. Bucky was still out there, and when Steve was gone nobody would be looking for him. Nobody who was a friend at any rate.

And his soulmate would be left waiting forever, never hearing her words or knowing his name.

He’d never even found out her name. 

It was only by a miracle that most of them survived, or at least that’s what Steve believed. It was Tony’s science and SHIELD’s timely intervention, sure, but those were miracles. 

It was tempting. So, so tempting, to use those miracles for his own ends and track down his soulmate. She’d be easier to find than Bucky, not likely to be in hiding from anybody. But guilt ate at his stomach at the thought. Bucky still needed to be his priority and taking tools away from that search to find someone else just wouldn’t be right.

So of course, much as she’d appeared the first time, his soulmate crashed into his life again as soon as he’d really and truly thrown himself into the search for his long lost best friend.

He’d been called back to help deal with a HYDRA nest that had taken a scientific facility hostage, and post battle, in classic Tony style, there was a celebration. He was big on celebrating the victories, though there was a tension around his eyes these days that never quite went away, even when he was playing the affable host.

Steve was lounging by the bar chatting with Natasha when he saw her. She was talking to Helen Cho, hands moving animatedly, and Helen gave a laugh at the story she was telling (by her gestures it looked like it involved an explosion or seven). Steve’s mouth had gone dry as he drank her in, hardly believing she was right there, let alone the how of it.

“Rogers!” Natasha’s sharp voice cut through and he almost startled. By the look on Natasha’s face he hadn’t completely managed to stop the full body jerk. He cleared his throat guiltily, knowing he’d been staring, and gave a pathetic attempt at covering it up by swallowing down the rest of his drink. 

“See something you like?” She asked, eyeballing the young woman he’d been staring so hard at.

“No. I mean yes. I mean-” Steve turned to look at her again, debating whether to tell Natasha who she was to him, when a man walked up to her side and slung an arm around her waist. From the bright smile on her face, his soulmate didn’t mind it one bit.  
And even though he couldn’t hear the conversation there was no way he could be misunderstanding what he was seeing, because the pair of them were grinning and she held out a hand, the unmistakable sparkle of a ring catching the light. 

White noise flooded his ears and Steve didn’t even realise he’d dropped his glass until Natasha snapped her fingers in front of his face and waved it at him. Even caught up in what was happening a small thought managed to get into wonder how she’d gotten around the bar fast enough to catch it.

But it was Natasha. She did that. It really wasn’t important in the scope of things.

“Steve? What’s happening?” Natasha asked, and even though she’d never openly betray it Steve thought he’d gotten to know her well enough to pick up just a hint of worry. He couldn’t tell if it was for him or because something was happening that she didn’t know though.

“She’s engaged.” The words were choked out, and Natasha raised that familiar eyebrow before glancing over her shoulder. 

“So she is. Too bad. It’s not like she’s your soulmate. Stress less, Steve.” 

Even with the flippancy as she set the glass on the bar, her eyes never left his face and Steve didn’t hope for even one second she’d missed him flinching at that word.

“Something you want to share?”

Steve shook his head miserably and Natasha tutted.

“So you met your soulmate and it didn’t work out. It happens sometimes.” Steve almost opened his mouth to ask for the story there, because the lilt to her voice promised there was one. The sort full of pain, like a lot of Natasha’s more personal stories were. He thought better of it though, not willing to go through the other kind of pain she might dish out if she found the question too intrusive. 

“She doesn’t know,” Steve sighed, looking at his soulmate again. She was leaning into the man’s side, head resting on his shoulder, and Steve wanted to break something.

“Try that one again?” 

“She doesn’t know,” Steve repeated. “When I ran into her and she said my words... Bucky was so close, I just…” He shrugged his shoulders weakly.

Natasha made a sharp curse in Russian and reached up to smack him around the back of his head, then grabbed his arm and bodily dragged him across the room.

Steve cursed Tony’s slick flooring. He was trying to dig his heels in, but his shoes were just sliding along, and Natasha wasn’t exactly weak by anyone’s measure. Before he knew it they were coming to a stop, joining the small circle. “Ladies,” Natasha said warmly, tugging Steve to her side. “Jane, you remember Steve?”

Steve’s eyes came to rest on the petite woman. He’d only met her once, several months earlier, but she was almost unrecognizable now. Before she’d been drowned in denim and oversized flannel, looking a bit frantic as she checked numbers against charts in Tony’s lab. Tonight she was in a cocktail dress, hair up, and looking relaxed. His manners kicked in and he reached out a hand. “Dr Foster, of course. Good to see you again.” 

“I don’t think we’ve met your friend though,” Natasha said, turning to the couple. She extended a hand to the woman first.

“Oh, right!” Jane exclaimed, dropping Steve’s hand. “This is Darcy. She used to be my intern-”

“Unpaid intern,” Darcy interrupted with a cheeky grin, taking Natasha’s hand and giving it a neat pump.

“Unpaid intern,” Jane repeated, rolling her eyes with an amused huff.

“Don’t forget lightning wielder and all around alien fighting bad-ass.”

Jane waved a hand. “And that stuff. She’s working at the mayor’s office now. And this is her soulmate, Greg. He’s on Wall Street.”

“Which is the very misleading way of saying I work at House of Morgan on Wall Street, in the public relations area,” Greg smiled easily, taking Natasha’s hand in a neat shake. 

“Tomato, tomahto,” Jane shrugged, and Darcy poked her tongue out.

“All I can say is thank Thor he’s not one of those high flying broker guys. Can you imagine me with somebody like that? Total combustion in, like, a month.”

Natasha made an agreeing hum before her eyes slid over to Steve. “Have you met Steve yet?”

Steve’s eyes widened a touch at being called out and put firmly in his soulma- no, not his soulmate, she couldn’t possibly be his soulmate because her soulmate was Greg, and Steve had to stop thinking of her as his.

“We haven’t, no,” Greg supplied, holding out a hand which Steve took and gave a perfunctory shake before letting go as quickly as possible.

“So you’re Captain America huh?” Darcy asked, that bright smile directed right at him. “Gotta say, I love what that whole uniform does for you. Who should I send the muffin basket to to say thanks for making it so tight?” Her eyes sparkled with a challenge to meet her comments head on and Steve felt hollow. She was exactly as he remembered and lovelier all at once. Words bubbled up, but before they could spill forth and confirm or deny anything he clamped his lips together and gave her a tight smile, his hand lingering around hers for a second too long. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere I have to be,” Steve said shortly, aiming it at Natasha, or Jane, or Greg. Anybody but her. Without waiting for a response he spun on his heel and marched off, ducking Clint and his projectile cocktail umbrella’s as he went.

***  
Natasha scowled at Steve’s hastily retreating back. She growled another Russian curse under her breath before turning back to the group.

“Not exactly the social type, is he.” Darcy asked, frowning even as she appreciated the view that was Rogers perfect behind.

“He has his moments,” Natasha said evenly, turning her attention back to the group but avoiding Darcy’s eye. The young woman, for her part, narrowed her eyes at Natasha and just barely held her tongue at asking what she meant, because there was definitely something going on there.

“Don’t worry Darce,” Greg said, pressing a kiss to her temple and interrupting her ogling. “He’s Captain America. Guys gotta have a lot on his plate. Besides,” he grinned, turning her face to his with a finger under her chin. “Makes a plain guy like me feel pretty good to know not even Captain America can handle the things that come out of your mouth sometimes.”

“Hey!” Darcy protested, then squeaked when Greg’s fingers tickled at her ribs. “Ah! No! Uncle!” She swatted at his hands, laughing, before catching Natasha watching them. “What? What’s with the staring? Is it the PDA? I know some people get freaked out by PDA.”

Natasha blinked and offered up a small smile. “I suppose it’s just something I’m not used to,” she lied. “How did you two meet?”

“Total meet-cute”, Darcy said, instantly forgetting her concerns about being stared at so intently by the Black Widow. “I was eating out with Jane and totally spilled ketchup down my shirt. And Jane over here didn’t say anything-”

“I didn’t notice!” Jane interrupted, and Natasha had the feeling this was a claim that had been made often.

“You never notice,” Darcy waved her off. “Too much time with your head in space. Any way, we were about to leave and there’s this glob of red on me and Greg gets up from the booth behind us and-it was so cute, he looked so flustered- told me about the ketchup.”

Darcy beaming smile didn’t even falter at Natasha’s frown. 

“Your soulmark is about ketchup?” Awkward as he may be with women, Natasha was fairly certain he wouldn’t allow his first words to his soulmate to be about a condiment.

“No,” Greg said with a shake of his head. “It’s I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner. I’d been sitting there looking at her with that stuff on her shirt for almost forty minutes, but I didn’t really know how to broach it.” He smiled sheepishly. “I thought if I just walked over and mentioned it she might slap me.”

“I wouldn’t have!” Darcy swore, then after a beat added. “Probably.”

Jane scoffed and Helen laughed and Greg gave a phony sigh and kissed her temple again. “Would have been worth it even if you had slapped me,” he told her. There was a part of Natasha, deep down, that found the sentiment sweet, but for the most part she just had to refrain from wrinkling her nose, especially when Helen gave a dreamy little sigh.

“Blech, you two need to quit being so adorable, people are going to get sick,” Jane needled. Darcy stuck her tongue out.

“Now you know how everyone else feels about you and Thor. Payback’s a bitch Janey.”

The pair devolved into a petty back and forth about which couple was more nauseatingly in love. Natasha took the opportunity to excuse herself, only pausing to shake Greg’s extended hand whilst he smiled and said how good it had been to meet her.

Something was very wrong with this whole situation and Natasha needed time to work out what it was. Nothing she had witnessed between the pair suggested there was anything strange there, but Natasha had that feeling in her gut that she’d learnt not to ignore. And she was quite sure the feeling wasn’t just because Steve had been sure Darcy was his, and the Captain wasn’t so incredibly wrong too often.

***  
“So.” Darcy hopped up onto the kitchen counter and started swinging her legs, her heels tapping out a rhythm against the cupboard. If she noticed Steve stiffen at all she was ignoring it. “You and Natasha, you’ve totally got a vibe.”

Steve clamped his lips shut and just threw her a confused look.

It had been this way for months now - she’d pop up at the tower, ostensibly to visit Jane, and find her way into his presence. The things that came out of her mouth were always unexpected and it had taken every ounce of Steve’s self control to keep his mouth shut.

And Darcy was obviously curious about why he refused to talk to her. He didn’t refuse to communicate, they’d had several conversations with Steve offering up nothing but hand gestures and facial expressions, but his silence never seemed to put her off. He was starting to think she liked having a mystery to solve, and this one was all the more fun because it made no sense.

“My wedding’s coming up,” Darcy explained. “And I need to get on the whole invitations thing. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to get that stuff printed? Because it’s expensive. Stupid expensive. Everything wedding related is stupid expensive. It’s like you walk in and as soon as you mention nuptials suddenly everything gets a 200% markup. Any way. Reason I’m bringing up the vibe is ‘cause I wanted to know if Natasha would be your plus one. Actually let's be real, you’d be her plus one, ‘cause that lady is so in charge. But if you’re together then I only have to send one invite and get to save some dollars.”

She beamed at him and Steve’s eyes dropped. He hunched over his sandwich and bit his tongue to keep quiet. She was so excited about the wedding, he could see it in her eyes. Only she was marrying the wrong fella.

Natasha had forced him to talk about the whole sorry situation, if not with Darcy, like she hinted very heavily (with a fist to his face) he should, then with her. He’d explained their meeting in detail and shown her the words on his arm. She’d looked at them for several long moments before letting out a laugh. He could hear her amusedly murmuring ‘Fucknugget’ as she walked away.

Because of course his soulmate would have a filthy mouth, and of course she had to mark him with it. Growing up with a word like that branded on his arm was a pain - his Ma had been absolutely horrified. Steve hadn’t admitted it to anyone but Bucky, but he kind of looked forward to her all the more for knowing she wasn’t some shy little lady.

“Stevie-boy,” Darcy sing-songed, cutting into his thoughts and forcing him to look at her again. He felt sick, witnessing the soft admiration as she looked at the ring on her finger. It should’ve been his. “So, you and Natasha, plus one or no?”

Steve gave her a sad smile and shook his head.

“Oh Steve,” Darcy sighed, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll both get invites. But no plus one’s, ‘cause weddings are the perfect place for romance to blossom and you two are teetering on that edge. I can tell these things.”

She hopped off of the counter and tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially before leaving the room, and Steve gave a heavy sigh, leaning back where she’d just been sitting. The countertop was still warm under his hands.

Even with his refusal to open his mouth around her, Darcy was still friendly with him. Just as friendly as she was with any of the others. It made no sense, but then a lot about Darcy defied logic. Like why she was playing at trying to set him up. Even if he was interested in Natasha that way he didn’t have her words, and she didn’t have his (he wasn’t sure if she had words at all, actually, but was sure if he asked she’d find a new and inventive way of making him regret it). For someone who’d found such happiness with her own soulmate she was incredibly invested in other people’s non-soulmate romances. 

“Tell me again why you still aren’t talking to Darcy?”

Natasha, of course, was now standing in the doorway and Steve jumped, pulled so suddenly from his thoughts. He threw her a dirty look, because he could. And she knew exactly why he wasn’t speaking. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit excuse again. It’s not better for anybody for you to be living in this limbo of ‘is she isn’t she’. Say something and you’ll know, and then we can fix this mess.”

“Just leave it alone, Tash,” Steve ground out, tired of this conversation after repeating it so often. “It’s… I’m not ready to know she’s not mine for sure yet. Maybe it is stupid, but it’ll work out just fine. Eventually.”

“And when will that be? At her wedding? In a year? A decade? This is unhealthy Rogers, and you know it. Not to mention her, believing this other man is her soulmate when he might not be.”

“How do you explain that?” Steve demanded, straightening and crossing his arms. “He said her words, she said his. It’s not like there’s a lot of opportunity for that kind of mix up.”

She tutted at him. “There’s plenty of opportunity for mix up. Some words just aren’t that distinct. Two people with indistinct words meet, they think it is what it is, even though it might not be.”

Steve snorted and turned away. “Even if that is the case she’s happy with him.”

The slap to the back of his head came without warning, but by the time Steve had turned around Natasha was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The closer it got to her wedding, the more frantic Darcy became. 

She’d never thought of herself as one of those bride’s who ran around freaking out about bridesmaid dresses and cake toppers and seating arrangements, but there she was, doing exactly that. It was exhausting, and Jane wasn’t helping.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up. It’s just a legal ceremony.”

“And a party.”

“And a party.” Jane agreed. “But you’ve organised plenty of parties before without it being a whole thing. I mean I get wedding’s are special but you’re freaking people out now.”

“Don’t you dare call me a bridezilla,” Darcy glared, pointing an accusing finger at her friend. 

“Wasn’t going to. I’m just saying, you should relax and stop falling into the whole wedding industry hype.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Darcy grumbled, dropping into Jane’s wheely office chair and kicking herself across the room in short bursts. “When you get married it’s going to be organised for you, because you’re going to be a freaking princess and have servants. I’m one woman doing this all on my own and it’s rough, ok!”

“Well why isn’t Greg helping?” Jane demanded, glancing at Darcy before going back to the fiddly screw she was trying to get lined up in her latest gadget for wormhole detection. 

“Because.” Darcy said, and didn’t say any more.

“Because why?” 

“Yes Darcy, because why?” Both women jumped and Jane cursed as her tiny screw fell onto the floor and rolled away.

“Goddamit Tasha,” Darcy pouted at her. “You’re wearing bells at my wedding.”

“Well that’s not happening.” Natasha smirked. “Now, why is your husband-to-be not involved?” Natasha didn’t really care whether a man was involved in the planning of his wedding or not, but she cared very much about the ins and outs of Darcy’s relationship. Since their first meeting she’d been invested in finding out the truth. As a couple though they didn’t exactly make it easy. Natasha had witnessed many soulmate pairs who were not as happy as Darcy and Greg.

It was getting to the point where she was going to have to rely on more than just her awareness to figure this out. Which annoyed her, because she’d been holding back and waiting for Steve to pull his head out of his ass before she started digging into Greg’s past and looking for reasons why he couldn’t be Darcy’s soulmate.

“I dunno. He’s all excited for the whole being married thing - I think that’s why he proposed so fast. But the actual planning does nothing for him.” Darcy kicked at a desk, hard, and sent herself sailing smoothly over to Natasha. 

“That isn’t a good enough reason to leave all the work to you,” Jane piped up from the floor, and Natasha nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, well, it is what it is. I’m stressed enough, I don’t need to add convincing him to help to my to-do list.”

“Speaking of to-do lists,” Jane murmured, still on her hands and knees looking for the tiny screw, “did you ever do what you said you were going to do and go to the cops about the you-know what?”

“Yes I did,” Darcy said evenly. “It stopped, so no biggy.”

“No biggy?” Jane exclaimed, her head shooting up so fast she smacked it on the underside of her desk. “You had a freaking stalker! That is definitely what we call a biggy.” 

Natasha stiffened and her eyes locked on to Darcy with heightened awareness.

“Ix-nay on the alker-stay stuff, Jane!” Darcy glowered at the other woman.

“You had a stalker?” Natasha demanded, and Darcy flushed.

“No! I mean, maybe… It was a few months ago. Couple of weird things happened, shadows outside my windows, my bathroom window lock got broken, that was it.”

Natasha raised a brow and moved into the room proper, pulling up a second chair.

“And this was never resolved?”

Darcy shrugged. “I called the cops, they came out and had a look around, ran patrols in the area for a week. I replaced the lock with a better one. That was it. And then I met Greg and he started spending nights at mine and… Fuck, this sounds so stupid, but I just didn’t feel as worried about it when he was there.” She squirmed and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, I cannot believe I’m actually falling for the male presence placebo. My inner feminist is pissed.”

“A second person in the home, of any gender, adds a level of security,” Natasha said evenly, not giving away even a hint of what she was really thinking. Perhaps the mystery of Greg was that much closer to being solved.

For one of a very few times in her life, Natasha hoped she was wrong though.

***

“One for my favourite cat-suit wearing gal,” Darcy announced a few weeks later as she entered the room, a stack of pearly envelopes in her hand. She dangled one out at Natasha, who took it with a small smile and a nod of her head. “One for my second favourite rich guy,” she snickered, frisbee tossing one at Tony’s head and ignoring his outraged demand to know who was the favourite. “And one for the silent soldier.” She came to a stop in front of Steve and held the envelope out, smiling sweetly up at him. “Remember what I said about dates,” she insisted, not letting go of the envelope, even as Steve tried to take it. She didn’t release it until he made eye contact and nodded in agreement.

No dates for Steve Rogers at her wedding.

“I have two questions,” Clint piped up from where he was draped over the sofa, his legs dangling over the back. 

“Hit me Merida.”

Clint grimaced at the nickname but pushed on any way. “One, where’s mine? And two, you’re mailing the rest of those out right?”

Darcy walked over, not noticing Steve’s eyes on her, or Natasha’s eyes on Steve, and leaned against the sofa with one hand. “One, it’s with your wife, ‘cause she won’t lose it like some people. And two, postage costs money.”

“That didn’t answer the second question.”

“It did in any way that counts, birdie.” She poked at his leg before straightening and adjusting the pile to keep it from toppling and scattering invitations everywhere. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a lot of New York to cover.”

With one backward wave she wafted out the door as quickly as she’d arrived. 

“So you’re really letting her go through with the whole wedding then?” Clint asked, making Steve jump since he’d managed to get off of the sofa and walk right up behind him without the Captain noticing.

“I-what?” Steve asked, but he was sending an accusing glare Natasha’s way. As was her want, she didn’t look even a little put out by it.

“Come on Cap, you’re mental for little Lewis. I can tell.”

“We all can!” Tony piped up, though his attention didn’t sway from the gadget in his hands.

“She’s-I’m not, I mean. She’s happy. And I’m not about to be the mook that gets in the way of that,” Steve said sternly. 

“Even if she is your soulmate?” Natasha asked, and Steve could tell by the pleased tilt to her lips she was ecstatic to be the one to drop that bombshell.

“She’s your what?” Tony demanded, the device slipping from his fingers and landing on the carpet with a dull thud. “Since when?”

“She might not be,” Steve grumbled, his shoulders hunching in under the scrutiny of the others. 

“But she probably is,” Natasha stated. “And he won’t open his mouth and say something to her to confirm it.”

“Dude,” Clint said, shaking his head. “That’s messed up.”

Gritting his teeth Steve turned on his heel and stalked out, ignoring Tony and Clint. And he’d be having words with Natasha later. They might have been a team once, and friends even, most of the time, but people were entitled to have their secrets. 

He didn’t even talk to anyone else that afternoon before taking off back upstate to the Avengers facility. Sam was meant to be back in a day or two with news about the latest traces of Bucky. He should be there for that, not worrying about Darcy Lewis and her upcoming nuptials. 

***  
Despite small clues, Bucky’s trail had gone cold and stayed that way for months, and Steve wasn’t given the gift of an excuse to avoid Darcy’s wedding. Natasha turned up at his door the morning of and manhandled him into a suit. She didn’t say a word the whole time, but that just made Steve all the more aware of the judgement that was coming off of her in waves.

He tried, several times, to say something in his defense, but the words just got stuck in his throat. They stayed silent even as they drove the distance back to the city. Tony had magnanimously booked and paid for their wedding venue, a lovely and simple rooftop garden, high above the noise and even most of the smell of New York. 

“If I’d known she was your soulmate I wouldn’t have gotten her somewhere so nice,” Tony said in way of greeting, and Steve glared.

“Not ‘cause I don’t like the kid, but if she’s just gonna wind up marrying you then that wedding should probably be the nicer one.” His eyes cast around the set up and he nodded. “Yep, this would’ve worked for you.”

Some of the fight left Steve and his shoulders slumped. “I think I should be saying thanks for that, but it doesn’t make much difference. She’s not with me, she’s not marrying me.”

“You know finding your soulmate is an incredible thing,” Tony said casually, but his expression was dour.

“I thought Pepper was unmarked?” Steve asked, surprised.

“She is.”

Steve blinked, not understanding, until Tony sighed and pulled up his shirt. The scarred words on his ribs said everything.

“I’m sorry Tony,” Steve started, but he was cut off by Tony.

“Don’t worry about it. I was only a teenager, and as we can all see I’ve grown a lot since then, in a lot of ways. Pepper might not have my words on her, but she’s perfect for me now. I’m just saying, if you can be with your soulmate you should, because you never know when the option won’t be there any more.”

He snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it before walking off. Steve watched, and suddenly the way Tony sidled up to Pepper’s side and slipped an arm around her waist, holding her close, seemed a lot more intimate than it had before.

Maybe he should say something. Natasha was right, this living in limbo wasn’t good for him. And Darcy might be happy, but she deserved to know if there was a choice here. It was cruel, and selfish, but Steve needed to say something now, before she went through with this wedding. Just say something, anything, and then they’d work it out after that.

For his sake, he hoped there’d be things to work out.

For hers he sort of hoped there wouldn’t. Because she was happy, and she believed she was with her soulmate now, but if Steve was her soulmate then that wasn’t true, and there was a lot of confusion and pain waiting down that road.

But they needed to know, before it got more complicated.

He went off, intending on finding Natasha. She’d know where Darcy was, would even be able to get them a few minutes of alone time so Steve could finally force his damn mouth to work. He took the stairs, jogging down to the top floor where the preparation areas were, but cursed when he found nothing but empty rooms. 

“Rogers!” He spun, frantic, to find Natasha bearing down on him. “Come on, the ceremony is going to start in a couple of minutes.”

“I need to talk to her!” 

Natasha paused and studied him, the glimpse of fear on his face, before grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the elevator.

“She’s already up there, so you’re going to have to talk fast. Or pull the dramatic objection in front of everybody before they say the vows.”

Adrenaline coursed through him as they waited for the elevator to come back down, and Steve couldn’t help himself from fidgeting, the movements even more obvious next to a perfectly still Natasha.

She cursed when they stepped out on the roof and the first strains of music were starting up.

“You’ll need to take your seats,” an usher said, gesturing to the neat rows of chairs.

“We need to see the bride,” Natasha stated. 

Beneath his panic, Steve had to begrudge some respect for the usher, who didn’t even flinch under the Black Widow’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but the ceremony has already started. Please, take your seats.

There was little option but to do exactly that. Natasha had tensed, having no issue with causing a scene to get her where she wanted to be, but Steve lay a hand on her arm and pulled her to the seats. He sat down heavily, staring straight ahead.

He was too late. She was going to walk down that aisle any second now and marry a man who claimed he had her words but Steve knew he didn’t, because her words were on him.

“I’ll cause a distraction,” Natasha murmured in his ear, her eyes darting around the assembled guests. “You get to her and say whatever you’re meant to say.”

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Don’t. She doesn’t deserve to get embarrassed like that.”

Natasha actually sneered at him, her expression venomous. “You’re joking right? You finally decide to do what you should have done months ago and you’re backtracking already because you don’t want to cause a scene?”

Steve’s response was cut off by the wedding march starting. Every note felt like a stab and his eyes sank shut. Ever the masochist though, he couldn’t stop himself from turning when there was the rustle of many people shifting in their seats and a gasp from the collected crowd.

He opened his eyes and he looked and he saw his soulmate looking breathtakingly radiant, all for somebody else. And the worst part was that most of the shine wasn’t from the dress or the jewels. It was from her smile. 

Afterwards Steve didn’t even remember the ceremony. He recalled Natasha elbowing him at one point, but other than that he’d just sat, numb and disengaged, not knowing what to do.

The reception was worse though, because he was aware again. He was very aware of Natasha’s anger and Tony’s sadness, but more than anything he was aware of Darcy’s happiness. He was aware of every look she gave her husband, of how she touched him. How she kissed him. It was unbearable now, with that new ring so shiny on her finger.

And she had to go and make it worse, without even knowing she could.

Darcy had danced with her husband. She’d danced with Thor, and Clint, and even done a lively twirl around the floor with Jane. And then she was in front of him, eyes sparkling as she held out her hands.

“You know you don’t get to say no to a bride on her wedding day Steve,” she announced, her fingers waggling at him in invitation. “And this bride wants a dance.”

Steve stared up at her with wide eyes, shaking his head minutely at the very idea of the torture that dancing with her would be.

Darcy wasn’t one for taking no under normal circumstances though, let alone today, and she grabbed his hands and Steve was powerless to resist her pull. He was on his feet and in the middle of the dance floor before he knew it, one of her hands held tight in his, the other sliding across the material covering her waist.

“So, do wedding’s bug you or something?” Darcy asked as they swayed in a small circle.

Steve dragged himself out of his thoughts of how perfectly his hand fit her curves and blinked at her. He opened his mouth before catching himself and shaking his head.

“Really? Cause I was sneaking glances during the ceremony and you looked like someone kicked your puppy. And Natasha looked like the puppy had peed on her Versace.” 

Steve sighed and forced a smile, shrugging.

“Nothing? Still? One day I’m gonna figure out why you won’t talk to me, Stevie-boy. Do you just really hate me but are too polite to tell me to go away? ‘Cause I’m a big girl y’know, I can deal if you’re not a fan.”

Steve shook his head adamantly and swallowed his regret, gripping her even tighter to him. Her chest pressed against his and he let out a shaky breath when her hand squeezed his.

“Well that’s a relief. I say I could handle it but seriously, you might break my heart if you suddenly said you hated the sight of me,” she laughed. 

Steve stopped moving and just stared at her. Unbidden his hand lifted from her waist and moved to tuck a loose curl back behind her ear. His fingertips grazed her cheek almost reverentially and she was looking up at him, pupils dilating.

“Darcy!” The shout had her turning and his hand fell away. His teeth grit as he followed the sound and saw Greg waving at her. 

He’d never wanted to punch somebody so badly in his whole life. Not even the Red Skull, and he’d really liked punching that guy in his awful face.

“Cake time,” Darcy said, turning back to him and smiling fondly, even as her eyes darted over his face. She gave his hand one more squeeze before letting go and heading for her husband. Steve had to turn away when Greg slid a hand around her waist and pulled her in close, dropping a kiss to her lips as he did.

He didn’t see the confused look on her face as she watched him duck out of the room, or the way Greg had to repeat her name a couple of times before she put a hand on the knife and remembered that it was her wedding and she was happy and there were going to be a million photo’s of this moment, so she should look it. No matter what was going on with Steve Rogers and his sad face.

That tender moment stayed on her mind for the rest of the reception though, something about it unshakeable.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve disappeared for a week after the wedding. Natasha, of course, knew exactly where he was, but she didn’t interfere. He needed time to sort himself out and, hopefully, come to his senses. It had been a mistake, his keeping quiet at the ceremony just to save a little face (whether his or Darcy’s wasn’t clear). 

When he came back to the Avengers facility there was no great lightbulb moment. There wasn’t even a mention of Darcy Lewis. He threw himself into training, drilling the new team through maneuvers to cover everything from basic civilians under fire to a fresh load of aliens raining down from the sky, and his ‘spare’ time was spent following leads on Bucky.

By a great miracle he found him again, in Romania of all places. With some stern guidance from Sam and Natasha, Steve managed to reign himself in and let Bucky be, at least for now. Every other time he’d found him and approached Bucky had bolted. It was better to stay back, at least for a while, and just watch. And Steve saw his friend, indelibly altered but still in there. He had a roof over his head, he was eating, taking care of himself. Given the circumstances, Bucky was doing better than anyone could have expected.

Not as good as Steve hoped, of course, but then his hopes were astronomical for what it would be like with Bucky by his side again.

“You’re dwelling again,” Natasha murmured, making Steve jump. His sketchbook fell to the floor, pencil rolling off with a clatter. 

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,” he grumbled, picking the book up and smoothing over the page he’d been working on. An all too familiar face looked back and Natasha couldn’t help reaching out, the tip of a finger running over the perfect rendering of Bucky’s lower lip. 

“You know he can’t be who he was before don’t you?”

“Wasn’t looking for opinions.” Steve grunted, reaching for his pencil. He didn’t know what exactly Natasha knew of Bucky, just that there was something. She never gave much away, but Steve had been around her enough to pick up on the little clues, and there was definitely some familiarity there. If he was honest, Steve didn’t really want to know what it was. The way she looked at his sketches sometimes… He thought that this time he might be better off staying in the dark.

“I’m just saying, you have to be prepared. He might never be capable of being near you again.”

Steve stayed silent, jaw tense and pencil poised just above the paper. Natasha gave his shoulder a squeeze and left as silently as she’d arrived. Steve’s entire situation was a mess and she was at a loose end how to help. He was using Bucky as a distraction from Darcy and the mess there, but Darcy was exactly the distraction he needed to save him from his downward spiral over Bucky. Something was going to have to give, and soon.

***

It was six weeks since Darcy’s marriage and she was back at the tower to visit Jane. It was good fortune, since Natasha had come to see Stark about some disturbing chatter that had started coming in. 

Two birds, one stone. She was always a fan of that.

“So, how are you enjoying marriage?”

She helped herself to coffee before sitting neatly on the opposite side of the table to Darcy.

“It’s good,” Darcy smiled easily, sipping at her own drink. “Not really different to before, except suddenly other married people want to invite us to dinner parties.”

Natasha smirked. “Well they do say there’s downsides. Greg hasn’t acted any differently?”

Darcy gave her an odd look but just shook her head. “Nope. He’s the same as ever. Still too shy to show me his bare ass and still makes awesome breakfast spreads. Which he lets me eat in bed. So awesome.”

“He’s too shy..?” Natasha repeated, her head cocking ever so slightly to the side.

“Yeah. It’s cool though. I mean, I know he’s got nothing to be embarrassed about, but he is. I can live with it. It’s still a long way from where he was when we met.”

“What happened when you met?”

“It was, like, a month before he’d even show me his soulmark, ‘cause it’s on his thigh and he didn’t feel comfortable losing his pants in front of me.”

“Isn’t that...unusual?” Natasha asked. She was not one to get caught up in romance often, but she was sure that it was standard behaviour for people to want to see their words on their partner. Darcy just shrugged though, clearly not bothered by the anomaly.

“People are people, and everyone has their thing. His is body shyness. It’s fine.”

Natasha hummed in a vaguely agreeable way as she catalogued that particular piece of information and added it to everything else she’d gleaned about Greg. There wasn’t much to know though, from what she’d found. No police record, no records at all really. He was a man who, on paper, had led an entirely mediocre life and done nothing more incredible than tour Asia after college. 

Of course, that was only the impression given by a cursory (and fully legal) background check. She’d been holding off delving deeper, but with Steve stubbornly refusing to budge and Darcy in so much deeper now it might be time to go the dirtier route.

“How was the honeymoon? I was expecting much more of a tan on you.”

“It was amazing,” Darcy beamed. “So much beach. But beaches are sand, and sand gets in all the worst places, and see previous comments re the shy husband, so we didn’t do much sunbathing. I did get to go snorkeling though!”

“Well as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh there was enjoyment,” Darcy snickered. “So much enjoyment.” She waggled her eyebrows and Natasha forced a smile in return. 

“So, how’s everyone been here? I’ve been back for like a month and haven’t seen anybody. What, did Tony start to smell so you all all hightailed it upstate to your fancy Avengers facility?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not meant to know about that,” Natasha said evenly, lips twitching in amusement. Darcy gave her the most unimpressed look she was capable of.

“Gal pal of Thor, right here,” she pointed at herself. “Besides, you guys all totally love me. And Sam demanded I send cookies as often as possible. You’re totally-not-secret-secret-base is safe with me.” She grinned brightly again and finished off her coffee in one large gulp. Natasha didn’t miss the way she paused as she brought the cup down, or the suddenly nervous jump of her pulse. “So, uh, how’s Steve doing? I haven’t seen him since the wedding and he seemed kind of...sad.”

Natasha sighed and drummed her nails against the tabletop. “He is sad. He’s worried about his friend, and there’s a mess with his soulmate. Neither situation is helping. If anything, they’re feeding each other.”

“Shit,” Darcy breathed. “I didn’t even know he had a soulmate. Or, I mean, I figured he probably had a soulmate but I didn’t know he knew them.” She gave a small snort. “Then again why would I know, it’s not like he ever actually talks to me. And not even in the deep and meaningful sense, just the straight up opening his mouth and making sounds sense.”

Rising, Natasha just gave her a smile and, much as she’d done for Steve only a few days earlier, rounded the table and gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking away silently. Unlike Steve, Darcy shouted after her, because Darcy was like that.

“Give Steve a hug for me woman!”

***

It had been part of the plan, to give Steve his time, but just as Natasha had feared something had to give. And it gave in a way worse than any she had imagined. The Avengers dividing over a matter of opinion wasn’t unexpected - they fought over matters of opinion on a daily basis - but the Accords hadn’t just divided them, it had fractured them.

And before any steps could be taken to mend it, the UN exploded, Bucky was implicated, and Steve was fighting a one man war he was incapable of backing down from. Nothing and no one was going to harm Bucky, and he’d fight to his last breath ensuring it. 

The way he was going, he’d be taking a lot of other people to their last breaths too.

It’s why Natasha did what she did, allowing him to escape and take James with him. It was better for everyone.

***

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Darcy exclaimed, throwing a slipper at the TV.

“Babe, can you not? The TV’s new.”

“Oh a slipper isn’t going to hurt it,” she snapped, getting to her feet and starting to pace. “Have you seen this bullshit all the news is reporting? Captain America is a terrorist now? Bull-fucking-shit! I know Steve and he is so far the opposite of any kind of...of that!”

“It sounds pretty hard to believe,” Greg agreed, coming over and gripping both of Darcy’s shoulders to stop the pacing. “But to be fair, we don’t know exactly what happened. That airport in Germany didn’t just blow itself up.”

Darcy’s mouth opened, ready to lay down a full blown rant on her husband, but he cut her off with a kiss. 

“I’m not saying you’re wrong. Just nobody has all the facts. The news is wrong for reporting like they do. So how about we turn it off so nobody has to throw any more shoes, and we go out for dinner?” He smiled at her sweetly and Darcy’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m still pissed,” she grumbled.

“I know, and you should be,” Greg agreed, one arm wrapping around her shoulders and guiding her towards their bedroom. “Now go get changed. We’ll go to that Italian place you like so much, and I won’t say a word about how much pasta you eat.”

With a wrinkle of her nose Darcy did as he asked.

“It wasn’t a shoe!” She shouted as she opened the closet though, and Greg chuckled, retrieving said footwear and tossing it through the doorway. 

Half an hour later they were seated in the cosy little restaurant. Greg had taken the liberty of ordering Darcy the biggest cocktail they made and she was currently taking large swigs of it while they browsed the menu. 

“You know Natasha told me Steve has problems with his soulmate?” She said quietly. “Right before… Before everything happened.”

Greg frowned. “You know you shouldn’t talk about other people’s soulmates,” he said.

“Yeah, I know, I just… I can’t help but wonder whether that had something to do with it? Not the Accords or anything, but whatever caused everything to go the way it did… If he wasn’t thinking clearly or something? I guess I’m just worried about him.”

“You like him,” Greg said, and Darcy’s eyes shot up guiltily. He was smiling though, still flipping through his menu. “He was your friend and something bad is happening in his life. Of course you’re worried about him, because you care.” He reached over the table and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “That’s part of what I love about you.”

“Love you too,” she said, squeezing back, and thanking every god in every pantheon that he hadn’t meant anything more serious than friendship between her and Steve. Because there was only friendship there. There could only be friendship there. She had her soulmate right in front of her and she loved him. They were great together. And Steve had his soulmate, somewhere, too. Whatever that moment with Steve at the wedding had been was just that. A moment. A nothing moment that meant nothing. 

“Now, what do you say we get another round of drinks and you can dig into that carbonara you like so much? And maybe, when we get home, I can help you work it off?” He loosened the grip on her hand and ran a fingertip down her palm and Darcy felt her face flush.

Body shy he might be, but Greg never seemed to have any problem bringing up sex.

“As long as I’m still capable of moving, sure. But you know me and pasta.”

Greg grinned and tapped her hand before pulling his own back across the table. “Sweetheart, I’ll carry you home if that’s what it takes.”

She laughed as he waggled his brows at her. “Yeah ok, deal. I make no promises to be any use in the whole process though.”

With a laugh of his own, Greg put up a hand to call the waiter over, feeling overwhelmingly pleased he’d managed to take his wife’s mind off of the shit-show that was superheroes right now.

***

Steve stood in front of Bucky’s cryo tube, as he so often did when there was nothing else demanding his attention. It hurt more than he could admit, to see him like that. Frozen in time. They’d both spent too much of their prolonged lives in the ice, and Steve just wanted him out. 

But it had been his choice, and hard as it might be on this side of the glass, Steve had to respect that.

It didn’t mean he had to like it though.

Living in Wakanda was certainly different. The country was an odd mix of ancient belief and incredible technology. For a man from Brooklyn it was jarring, standing at the height of a metal and glass structure but looking out and seeing nothing but wild jungle. He longed for home, even if he wasn’t sure exactly where that was anymore. 

“This would be so much easier if you were here Buck,” he commented, laying a hand on the glass for a moment before pulling back with a sigh and leaving the medical wing. 

“He doing ok?” Sam asked, pushing himself off of the wall by the door as Steve exited. 

“No different,” Steve shrugged. “But then that’s what the ice is good at.”

“Look man, you know the guys here are working fast as they can to figure out a safe way to get inside his head and get the bad stuff out.”

“I know Sam,” Steve said, shoulders slumping another inch. “I just… I only just got him back.”

“And you’ll have him back again,” Sam said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Tasha sent through some chatter she thinks we should look into. UN team doesn’t think there’s anything there, but she does. Figured you’d wanna deal with it sooner than later.”

Steve nodded, but his spine straightened. Work was a welcome distraction, even when it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong with his team. He had regrets. So many regrets. But at the end of the day he knew he’d done what was right. The Accords weren’t going to solve any of the problems people had with the Avengers. At best it would be a placebo, until the next time a mistake was made. 

And Bucky… Bucky didn’t deserve to be hunted and caged, and without intervention that was the only plan any agency in the world had for him. 

Steve knew he’d chosen the right side. But the regrets and the result were there all the same. 

“Dude, you gotta quit spacing on me.” Sam said, interrupting his thoughts, and Steve blinked. 

“I wasn’t-”

“You were,” Sam said, not unkindly. “You get that same look on your face.”

“What same look?” Steve demanded, tensing. He wasn’t interested in arguing with Sam, but he didn’t like the fact that he’d apparently been so zoned out his team could tell, and that it wasn’t a new thing.

“You used to get that look when Darcy was talking to you.”

Of all the things Sam could have said, that was one of the last he expected.

“I don’t- I didn’t have a look when Darcy was talking,” Steve said, picking up the pace. The sooner he could get to their intel room the sooner he could demand everyone be quiet and focus on the potential mission.

“Yeah you did,” Sam chuckled amiably. “No judgement, that whole situation was pretty messed up.”

“What situation?” Steve said, narrowing his eyes. But he knew before Sam said it.

“The whole thing where she’s your soulmate.”

“Natasha?” Steve asked flatly, and Sam shrugged.

“She wanted somebody to make sure you didn’t forget.”

Steve grit his teeth but managed to choke down the angry words that were trying to make it past his lips. Darcy had been really good for him getting better at holding his tongue, and it was a skill he was using liberally these days. 

“Whether she is or isn’t my soulmate is a moot point now. She’s married, and in case you forgot we’re fugitives from pretty much every country.”

“You know, I always got the impression that girl wouldn’t care too much about a hurdle like that one.” Sam grinned.

“Moot. Point.” Steve grit out, not needing to be thinking about her now. He’d so successfully managed to keep her out of his thoughts, or at least at the very edges, that having it thrown in his face was making his guts twist.

Sam just raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t prod anymore, and they made their way through the palace in silence.

***

The months trickled by, and every time the Avengers, or the Rogue Avengers as they’d been dubbed, made an appearance in the world, Darcy was glued to the television.

“Any good shots of Captain America this time?” Greg asked, clearly bored. He was slumped on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table, a magazine in his lap he was lazily flicking through.

“No,” Darcy said, completely immune to his attitude. She wasn’t going to stop caring about Steve and the others, no matter how dull her husband found the whole thing. Especially not when the team of outlaw heroes was risking their freedom, not to mention their lives, to re-enter a world that claimed to not want them and save a lot of people from a lot of misery.

“I don’t know why you’re still watching all that stuff,” he sighed. “It goes the same way every time. They show up, kick some ass, and disappear about six seconds before the cops get there to arrest them.”

“Yeah, well, I wanna make sure none of them get hurt.”

“Because you could do something about it if they did?” He snipped

Darcy turned wide eyes to Greg and he instantly looked contrite. “Shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m just… I worry about how mixed up you were with all this stuff before it turned into a huge legal thing.” He tossed the magazine aside and slid next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” She grumbled, pulling back an inch. 

“I guess… I’m worried that you’re going to get dragged back in. Something’s going to happen nearby and you’re going to go off running to Captain America, and then you’re going to be implicated in all sorts of things.”

“You know that’s completely ridiculous right?” Darcy huffed. “I mean, yeah, if they were close enough I could at least say hi, find out how they’re doing, I totally would. But it’s not gonna wind up with me behind bars.”

Greg sighed and pulled her in close, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I believe you. I’m just…”

“Worried?” She finished for him.

He gave a small hum and Darcy rolled her eyes. He really was a worry wart when it came to the whole superheroes thing. Had been before they got married even. With one last glance at the news that was recapping the events in Amsterdam Darcy pushed her husband back and proceeded to launch a full blown tickle attack. Within moments they were both shrieking in laughter and rolling to the floor, all fears about superheroes put aside.

***

Natasha sat in the office, drumming her fingers against the padded arm of her chair. They’d just finished up another conference call with the UN Panel in charge of the Avengers Initiative and, like most of the meetings that had gone before, it had been infuriating.

The panel was a collective of politicians from a collective of countries, and each one was running their own agenda. More often than not any votes came to a fifty-fifty split, delaying action even further.

The world should be thanking god (or gods, as it may be) that the Rogue Avengers were out there. In the year since the team split the Rogue faction stopped at least three potentially catastrophic incidents whilst the official Avengers were stuck twiddling their thumbs waiting for bureaucrats to make up their minds.

It was much like Steve had feared. And, Natasha regretted, she had been wrong. Not about signing the Accords - on paper they were still right - but over her own false beliefs. She’d thought signing would mean having involvement in the decision making process still, a hand on the wheel, as she’d put it. Instead they were mostly ignored, their experience and intelligence a side note to their fighting skills.

With each day Natasha was becoming more and more convinced that she should abscond to Wakanda, join Steve and his Rogues. At least she’d actually be helping then. 

The rapid rhythm of her fingers stopped suddenly and she leaned her elbows on the desk. It had been set aside during all the chaos of the last twelve months, but Natasha realised if she was going to end up with Steve in person then she’d need to have some information ready about his soulmate. He wouldn’t ask, because he was thick headed and stubborn, but he’d want to know how she was doing.

Natasha knew, from some very brief interactions, that she was still with Greg, still believed him to be her soulmate, and she was still of the opinion she was happy with him. The spy didn’t doubt her happiness, but it was based on what were probably false impressions, which made it in itself false.

Smoothly, Natasha stood and left the conference room. If she was running to Wakanda there was a lot of preparation to be done, and a lot of digging about one man to be done before she left.


	5. Chapter 5

“Holy shit!” Darcy puffed, flopping off of her husband on to their bed and fanning at her face. After a second her nose wrinkled and she bounced around to get the covers out from under her butt and on top of her instead. Greg had already pulled them up to cover his lower half and was smiling at her, obviously pleased with himself.

“Good ride?” He teased, inching a hand over to pinch at her hip.

“Eh, I’ve had better,” Darcy teased right back, swatting at the offending limb. 

“Oh you have huh?” Greg snickered, pushing up on an elbow and hovering over her, leaning down and catching her lips in a searing kiss. “Give me twenty and I’ll see if I can’t out do that better.”

“Promises promises. Hey, you know what we should do with those twenty minutes?”

“I have some ideas,” Greg purred, burying his face against her neck and sucking at the already dark mark he’d left there. Darcy squealed and pushed him off with a laugh.

“Nope, not that! We should have ice cream. Sex and then ice cream and then more sex, there is no way to have a better night than that!”

Greg huffed and pinched her again. “Alright, ice cream it is. What do you want, Chocolate or Mint?” He slid out from under the covers and got to his feet, stretching. “You get fair warning now, if any of it drips on you I reserve my rights as husband to lick it off.”

When Darcy didn’t respond he looked over his shoulder and found her staring at his bare rear with a horrified expression. 

“Shit!” He exclaimed, turning away and grabbing the extra throw on the bed to cover himself. 

“What the hell is that?” Darcy demanded. Her voice was deathly quiet, but it was holding that hint that said hysteria was just around the corner.

“I- It’s nothing sweetheart, come on. Old tattoo, the removal was shit.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me right now!” Darcy hissed, gripping the sheets to her chest as she got to her knees and moved to the other side of the bed, as far as she could get from him. “That’s a fucking soulmate scar!”

“No, Darce, no, it really isn’t,” Greg insisted, reaching for her, but she flinched away so hard she toppled onto the floor. “Darcy? You ok?”

“Stay the fuck away from me!” She shouted, kicking out at him when he rounded the bed. “How the hell… How is this even possible? You said my words! And-and you have mine! You have mine, but nobody gets a second soulmate, so if you’ve got a scar it can only be because… And that means my words would have to be fake…”

Fat tears had started rolling down her face, a mix of fear and confusion and anger and more confusion making them drop faster.

“Show me my words!” She demanded, struggling to get to her feet with the sheets pooled around her body.

“Darcy-”

“SHOW ME!” Her voice broke on the shriek and Greg sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why the hell not?” She demanded, and Greg looked at her with heartache written across his face.

“Because then you’ll leave me. And you can’t leave me Darce. You’re mine. I chose you.”

Darcy swayed on her feet, vision blacking out around the edges at his statement. At everything it implied.

And then she punched him square in the face, hard as she could, and whilst he was clasping his broken nose and mewling on the ground she grabbed her phone and ran. 

***

The cops showed up ten minutes later and took Greg to the hospital to get his nose looked at. Darcy waited until he was gone before approaching the officer who’d stayed behind. Bless good 911 operators was all she could think, because the woman had stayed on the phone with her, agreed with her plan to stay out of sight until her husband was gone, and advised an officer to remain behind to talk to her. 

Shaking, cold, tears still tacky on her face, and wearing nothing but a bedsheet, Darcy numbly walked past him and into their home.

“Miss? Are you alright?” The officer asked, hovering at the doorway. She sniffed and nodded her head.

“Um, could you give me a minute to get dressed and then, um, then…” She sniffled and a fresh wave of tears started, and in the next second she was on her knees, sobbing awfully. 

Arms wrapped around her shoulders and she shuddered, the words a distant echo beneath the cacophony in her head.

She was pulled to her feet and guided to her room, deposited on the bed, and then the other person started rummaging through her closet. It wasn’t until a pile of clothes was put in her lap that Darcy caught a glimpse of red hair through her tears. She wiped at her eyes hastily until Natasha came into clearer view.

“Tash? Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I’ll explain soon. Get dressed now. You’ll need to give a statement to the police before he can be charged.”

“B-but how..?”

“Later,” Natasha said firmly, and Darcy nodded. She winced bodily when she stood and turned to see the messed up bed. It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes since she was in that bed making love to her husband, and now her whole world had crumbled completely out from underneath her.

Natasha politely looked away when the sheet was shrugged off, and Darcy pulled the clothing on. She didn’t know how Natasha knew what her comfort gear was, but she’d pulled out an entire outfit of it. The materials were all soft and old and loose, and when she’d dressed Natasha crouched down and guided her feet into slippers.

The police officer was sitting awkwardly at the kitchen counter, waiting for the women to return. He recognised the redhead of course, and when she’d shown up at the door within moments of the other woman falling apart he hadn’t argued at letting her in. 

“Alright, Mrs-”

“Miss Lewis,” Darcy cut in, her hands trembling. “I- I’m not Mrs anything, not to him.”

“Alright Miss Lewis,” the officer agreed. “I’m Officer Reynolds. I understand there was an incident tonight. Can you go over it for me?”

Darcy swallowed and glanced at Natasha who nodded and steered her into a seat, before she set about making tea. 

“Um, so, uh, Greg is… I mean, I thought he was my soulmate,” Darcy said weakly, fresh tears brimming. She dashed them away and swallowed thickly, still feeling like she couldn’t quite get enough air. “Um. He...he said my words, when I met him. And he said I said his, but he wouldn’t… He wouldn’t show me. Said he was body shy and wanted to get to know me better before he exposed himself.”

“He had your words on him though?” Reynolds prompted.

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, on his, um, on his upper thigh. Here.” She tapped the spot on her own thigh and Reynolds scribbled a note down. “He… um… Tonight… He always puts underwear on before he gets out of bed,” she said quietly, twisting her hands together in the stretched out sleeves of her sweater. “But I guess he forgot tonight and he had...had another soulmark on his…” She flapped her hand around by the seat and Reynolds shifted.

“Backside?” He filled in, and Darcy nodded.

“They’re scarred. So I guess whoever they were they died.” Her shoulders started shaking harder, just in time for Natasha to finish the tea. She slid a mug in front of Darcy and rounded the counter, taking the girl’s hands and wrapping them around the warm cup. Whether it was the heat or the touch, Darcy straightened her back a little and gave a decisive sniff.

Reynolds had paled, but he was still scribbling in his notebook.

“So you believe your words on him are faked?” 

Darcy nodded miserably.

“Tell him about the incidents before you met him,” Natasha said quietly, and Darcy shot her a confused look. 

“There was somebody watching her,” Natasha said, and Darcy understood, the sick feeling returning.

“When was this?” Reynolds asked.

“Just… just before I met Greg. There’s a...I filed a report about it? It would’ve been about eighteen months ago.”

Reynolds scribbled faster, nodding his head.

“Alright Miss Lewis. I’m very sorry for what you’ve gone through. Your story shouldn’t be hard to substantiate. We’ll need you to come down to the station to write out a full statement though.”

“I, yeah, I can do that,” Darcy nodded. “Tash, will you...Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Natasha agreed. “Drink your tea before it goes cold, and if you’re up to it we’ll go now.”

“I’ll wait outside and escort you,” Reynolds said, smiling gently. He still looked pale though. It wasn’t surprising. Soulmark fraud was a big deal, but usually it was two people that weren’t matched wanting to claim soulmate status for financial gain. Only someone truly sick would fake a soulmark in order to make somebody think they were a match. And then to keep up the ruse for over a year?

Officer Reynolds felt ill just at the idea of it. He couldn’t even begin to think he had any understanding what Darcy was going through right now.

He left quietly and Darcy sat, staring at the space he’d vacated, until Natasha nudged the mug in her hands.

“Drink, Darcy.”

She didn’t though. She stared at Natasha instead before asking in a broken voice. “Why me?”

Without hesitation, Natasha wrapped her arms around the young woman and held on tight. A second later the hug was returned, and Natasha made no move to hurry it along. 

“I don’t have that answer yet, Darcy. I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly. “I will find out though, I promise you.”

***

Darcy sat in court, Natasha by her side and gripping her hand tight. Greg wasn’t there, deemed mentally unfit - apparently something in him had cracked when his deception was discovered that night - but that wasn’t going to stop the court processing the divorce. It was going through in record time - it had only been a week since everything had come to light, but it had been a week too long, in Darcy’s opinion. 

She’d realised, at the police station, that she still had her wedding ring on and had ripped it off her finger and thrown it across the room.

It had taken a simple test to prove that the mark on Greg’s thigh was ink. The police were currently running an investigation to find the tattooist and arrest him too. Despite everything else he’d admitted to, Greg had stayed mum on that point.

He had admitted to many things though. Half of them Natasha had pieced together, far too late to really help Darcy. Too late to even keep her from finding out herself and going through that nightmare.

Greg’s soulmate had died when he was only a child. The psychologist wagered that having lost his soulmate so young, Greg’s entire attitude towards soulmarks had been indelibly warped. Growing up, surrounded by people lauding the importance and beauty of the soulmate pairing, he’d become convinced that it was the only way to find happiness.

Former girlfriends came forward with their stories, how he’d tried to talk several of them into getting each other’s words inked on, that they could be ‘just like real soulmates’. Apparently, after one too many rejected that idea he’d decided that the only way for it was to make someone believe he was their soulmate. If they believed they wouldn’t reject him.

It had been pure chance when he’d seen Darcy and taken a liking to her. He’d started following her, learning about her. It went on for weeks before he decided she was the one. And Darcy had never even realised. Only when he started getting closer, trying to see her mark and know the words to say, did she notice. By the time she’d called the cops he had what he needed though.

He spied through her bathroom window. Watched her undress. Seen the words on her hip. 

And then he’d waited and jumped at the first opportunity the words could fit into.

Darcy still didn’t have her answer though. Why her. Greg, in the taped interviews, just shrugged and smiled blissfully and said nothing more about it other than ‘I chose her’. 

Tony was gracious enough, with a bit of ear pulling from Natasha, to offer Darcy a room in his tower for as long as she needed it. The day they’d gone to the apartment to pack up her things had been hard and she’d broken down at all the reminders of the life she’d been manipulated into. 

Natasha made the decision to stay in New York - the young woman was fragile, jumping at shadows and flinching from touch, scared of the whole world. 

She couldn’t blame her.

***

Steve stared at the contents of the parcel Sam had just handed him, his stomach like lead as he read through the reports and articles. 

All of it detailed the events surrounding Darcy and Greg’s divorce and the probability Greg would be put on trial for criminal charges of soulmark fraud and abuse. There were pictures of Darcy and Steve felt his heart break to see how miserable she looked. And worse than miserable, she looked scared.

If only he wasn’t a wanted fugitive hiding out in a hi-tech jungle in the most secluded country in the world. He could go to her and start making things right. 

But then he wasn’t so sure she’d be too keen on getting involved with him now, after everything she’d been put through because he wouldn’t open his damn mouth and spit something out. 

And Greg… His jaw clenched in anger at what the man had done to her. It was sick and cruel, and if Steve had been in New York there was no way he would have been able to keep himself from doing something violent. 

“Something we need to be following up on?” Sam asked and Steve swallowed.

“I need to…” He walked off without finishing his sentence, the collection of pages crumpled in his hand.

***

Greg was finally deemed medically fit and he appeared before the court charged with a list of complicated crimes. He was pleading guilty and Darcy went just to watch him be taken away. And she needed to know first hand how long he would be locked away, how long she had before she’d need to be scared of seeing him all over again.

“Darcy!” He jumped up as she took her seat, firmly not looking his way, and his lawyer tried to pull him back down. “Darcy, you know we’re good together!” He shouted. “You can stop this. We’ll get married again, it’ll be just like it was before.”

He had to be removed from the courtroom before the sentencing could even begin, refusing to take his seat and be silent. Darcy just sat stoically, staring straight ahead, determined not to fall apart again. 

Natasha slid onto the bench next to her a few minutes later. “You should have waited for me,” she murmured.

“Gotta be a big girl some time Tash,” Darcy replied quietly, her eyes still trained on the wall over the judges empty seat. “He fucked me over, but I can’t just curl up and let my whole life be over because of it. This is just...closure. Or something.”

When Greg was brought back in he looked to Darcy again instantly, mouth already open to say something else. As soon as he spotted Natasha next to her though he scowled and looked away, allowing the guards to lead him to his seat without incident.

“You know he always had this thing about me hanging out with you guys,” Darcy commented, not missing the effect Natasha’s presence had had. “Always said it was ‘cause he was afraid I’d get involved somehow and wind up hurt, but I think… I think he was maybe just scared that you’d figure him out and save me.”

Natasha had no idea what to say back to that, and thankfully she was spared by the arrival of the judge. Darcy stayed staring straight ahead throughout the entire reading of the sentence. Her only move when it was read was to let out a shaky breath.

Twenty years was… Well it wouldn’t be his whole life, but it was a good chunk of hers, and she definitely planned to live it. 

***

“Why haven’t you been to see her yet?”

Steve winced at the sharp tone coming down the secure line. He was an early riser, but it was too early even for him to be dealing with an angry Black Widow.

“Nat…”

“Don’t give me excuses. You don’t have any good enough.”

“I didn’t think-”

“That seems to be a real problem of yours,” Natasha cut in.

“Do you really think she’s ready to let her actual soulmate in after what she’s been through?”

“I think she’s much stronger than you’re giving her credit for. You’re her friend first, Steve. She could have used that support the last couple of months. I’m trying but…” She let out a tired sigh. “Other than bringing her his head I don’t really know what to do. She went to his sentencing on her own, you know. He caused a scene.”

“I read about it,” Steve said stiffly. “How’d she hold up?”

“Well, considering. She’s not the same person she was before though Steve. And maybe hearing her words from somebody else might be too much right now, or it might be exactly what she needs.”

Steve was silent for a long time. 

“You’re gonna help me get a minute with her right?” He finally asked.

“You can have more than a minute,” she said, and he was sure there was a bit more warmth in his voice. “You should turn on the news.”

***

Rogue Avengers Pardoned, Urged to Return to Official Duty

The story was on every station and Steve and his team stood surrounded by monitors each showing a different program from around the world.

“Are they for real?” Sam asked, looking awestruck.

“Better be,” Clint grumbled. “I’m sick of having to sneak into the country to see my family.”

“It is quite true,” T’Challa announced as he walked in, a thick stack of document in his hands. “Apparently your intervention in Belgium last month has convinced even the United Nations that the world needs you.”

He laid the document out and the team crowded around. 

“You sign these and you’re free once more.”

Steve picked up the file with his name on it and leafed through the pages before raising a brow at T’Challa. “Any nasty surprises in here?”

“I assure you, Captain, there is not. My legal advisors went over each one thoroughly.”

“And they just so happened to know to send them here huh?”

T’Challa smiled in amusement. “Come now, you don’t believe you spent all this time in Wakanda and they didn’t realise where you were? It was simply decided that to attempt an invasion to claim you would be...unwise.”

“You’ve been pulling many strings,” Wanda piped up in her low voice, and T’Challa bowed his head to her. 

“As King it is my prerogative. And I have a duty to protect my people, of course.”

“So we’re really going home?” Sam demanded, grabbing up his own paperwork and starting to look it over.

“If it’s what you wish. My hospitality remains open should you choose to stay.”

“Bucky?” Steve asked.

“My offer includes him, Captain. He will stay until we find the solution you both seek.”

“Thank you,” Steve sighed in relief. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for us.” He held out a hand and the King took it, giving a firm shake. He nodded to them once before turning on his heel and leaving them to look over the pages that dictated their freedom.

***

Red tape was, of course, a bitch, and even after signing it took another week before they were able to freely and legally return to the United States.

Which was just enough time for someone to prepare a welcome home party of the worst kind. 

They’d barely landed at the upstate facility when the call to assemble rang out. A bomb had gone off in Times Square. Dozens were dead already, and they were sure there were more devices in the area.

Steve didn’t hesitate to run straight from the plane T’Challa had provided them for the trip and onto the Avengers Quinjet, his shield, replaced by the Wakandan, strapped to his arm. 

“Get the civilians out of here,” Steve ordered Sam and Natasha. Nobody argued with him taking charge again and they dashed off, Sam swooping into the sky. “Barton, Rhodes, get high, try and figure out where other bombs could be planted. Wanda, with me. You’re going to defuse them before anyone else gets hurt.”

They scattered, going about their tasks as Steve stood point. Wanda hovered a few feet off the ground by his side, a haze of red warping the air around her.

“To your left Cap, got one planted on the side of the screen,” Rhodey advised.

“Wanda?”

She nodded and shot up, easily manipulating herself as close to the bomb as she could and sending tendrils of power in to disrupt the circuitry and render it useless. 

“Done,” she announced less than a minute later.

“Just in time. There’s another one above the ticket booths,” Clint called over the comms. “And we got another one on top of… aw, c’mon, it’s on top of the Toys R Us. That’s sick.”

“Got eyes on timers Barton?”

“Two minutes on each.”

“Scan for more. If there are any we’re going to be cutting it close.”

Wanda hadn’t wasted any time whilst they were chatting, flitting to one and then the other and shutting the devices down with a twist of her wrist. 

“Left side of the square is clear,” Clint announced.

“Rhodey?”

“Looking good Cap, I’m not picking up any-wait.”

He didn’t need to say any more, as a collective of people burst out of a building to his right, ushered along by a young woman.

“Darcy?” Steve didn’t even realise he’d said her name before he was running, hurdling chunks of concrete and debris from the first bomb. “Wanda! Get over here now!”

He had time to recognise Wanda zipping past him, and Darcy running after the people she’d just helped evacuate, but their two minutes was up. He skidded to a halt as the front of the building exploded, shards of glass flying everywhere amidst the destroyed brick and concrete.

“Wanda?” He shouted, ears ringing from the blast.

“I’m fine,” she called out and he looked up to find her hovering above the blast zone.

“Steve!” He looked around wildly at Natasha’s call before spotting her, her black suit chalky with dust. She was running towards something and he followed the direction, squinting to see past the tiny debris in the air. 

His heart sank when he finally saw what she was running to.

“Fucknuggets! That really hurts!” Darcy screeched, slumped back against a piece of concrete and staring at the shard of glass sticking out of her abdomen. Red was quickly soaking through her shirt.

Steve was on his knees next to her in a second, hands moving uselessly. He had training in field medicine of course, but it fled him in a moment of panic looking down at the girl who’d just said his soulmark words for the second time.

“Well hey there Steve-o,” she said, and his heart seized at the way the words slurred. Her eyes were already looking out of focus and she reached up a hand and pet his face, missing twice before managing to touch him. “I think you missed one.”  
Steve swallowed and choked words out.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

Darcy’s eyes widened and she stared at him and Steve wiped hastily at his tears.

“Really?” She asked, blinking slowly.

He nodded and she let out a laugh, which quickly turned into a shout of agony. 

“Your timing sucks.” 

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed, brushing her hair back from her face. She smiled and it would have been beautiful if not for the tinge of red that was gathering on her lips. In an instant her eyes sank shut and she went limp, head rolling to the side, and Steve screamed.

The pain in his arm was agony.

The medical team arrived and he shook his head when they asked if he was hurt, pointing at Darcy instead. 

Not that it would do any good. She was gone. 

He ripped off his glove and tore at his sleeve until he could see the words on his skin. The black was fading, overtaken by a thick scar.

He didn’t register the medics taking her away, or Natasha demanding to know what happened, what her condition was. He didn’t have to answer. She got one look at his arm and fell silent.


	6. Chapter 6

One year later Steve found himself staring down at a headstone, his eyes tracing the letters of her name.

_RIP  
Darcy Marie Lewis_

 

His hands were clenched in his pockets and he swallowed nervously. He glanced around guiltily before pulling a hand free and reaching out to touch the headstone.

“Don’t you dare!” A hand shot out and slapped his away half a second before he could swipe a finger through the frosting of the macabre cake. “If you ruin my cake we’re gonna be celebrating your death instead of mine.”

Darcy propped her hands on her hips and gave him her most dramatic glower.

“I just wanted a taste,” Steve defended sheepishly, giving her his best puppy dog look and being rewarded when her mouth ticked up in amusement. 

“You can have all the tasting you want later, but you’re so not allowed to smear my name on my own Deathday cake. I’m pretty sure there’s gonna be some superstition about erasing a name from a gravestone or something…”

“You know, I think I’d rather taste something else right now,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in close. He lowered his mouth, intent on kissing her, but pulled up short when she snorted. 

“You are so corny,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, but you like me this way.”

***

_“Steve…” Natasha tried to get his attention, but amongst all the horror of a destroyed Times Square, Steve was seeing nothing but the ruin of his soulmark. With a shaky hand he touched it and flinched in horror when a smear of her blood was left behind._

“Hey Steve, come on, we should get out of here,” Sam added. “Let cleanup get started.”

Tears were prickling at the corner of his eyes and he sniffled, hard, before giving a short nod and letting his team guide him back to their Quinjet. There were whispers among the others on the way back but nobody tried to engage him as he stared with wet eyes at the opposite wall.

Everything had finally been getting back on track. Bucky was safe, if not sound, he was a free man again, Greg was anything but. He’d been planning on going to her as soon as they were back and finally coming clean. It was going to be so simple and now… Now she was gone. He’d been a coward and it had cost him a life with his soulmate.

***

Steve closed the gap and kissed her sweetly, gripping her too him so tight she let out a squeak. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Today’s just… I think I’d prefer to forget it then celebrate.”

Pulling back, Darcy cupped his cheeks in her hands. His eyes dropped to the words on her forearm and he sighed, relaxing. She had died, but she was here now. That was well worth celebrating.

“Trust me Steve, there’s a lot of stuff about that day I’d prefer to forget too, but I died Steve. I died and they brought me back. Like hell I’m not gonna throw a party. And when I get to call it my own Deathday party, come on, how many people get to have those?” She smiled sweetly before her nose wrinkled. “Actually don’t answer that. Around here a lot of people could. Don’t mention that though, I wanna feel special.”

“You are special,” Steve swore, and she pinched his cheek.

***

_The medics were a flurry of activity. Even as they hauled her onto the gurney resuscitation efforts were underway._

It was three whole minutes before her heart started again. 

She was loaded on the chopper, already hooked up to blood bags, and taken to the nearest hospital. Four hours of surgery later she, still unconscious, was loaded onto another chopper and moved to a private facility.

“Get her straight into the cradle,” Helen ordered, rushing to the controls and starting the program, ready to scan her as soon as she was in. Her machine calibrated and, with a few more taps on the touchscreen, it went to work repairing Darcy’s stitched together body.

***

“Did you get the flowers for Helen?” Darcy asked, after giving him another soft kiss.

Steve’s eyes glanced over to the bouquet, wrapped up in silvery paper and propped up in a tall glass. “Yeah. I still think black roses are a bit weird as a thank you gesture though.”

“Well yeah. But I’m weird Steve. Plus they totally fit the whole party theme. Pink would just look weird today.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, taking her hands in his and pulling them from his face. “You’re the expert on Deathday parties here.”

“Read a book Steve,” she teased. “Then you’d know what was going on too. And then you could be super grateful I didn’t get a log of super smelly, maggoty cheese for the buffet table.”

***

_“You know that’s a real waste of fifty year old scotch,” Tony said, in lieu of any kind of greeting. He leaned in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching Steve sat at the bar, fiddling with a too-full glass of liquor._

“Well I figured something as old as me might actually have an effect.” Steve said, taking a sip. “Turns out even you don’t have something that old though, so this had to do.”

Tony snorted and clicked his tongue, watching Steve take another swallow. 

“You might want to count yourself lucky then, because I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be blind drunk when you see your soulmate again.”

Steve shot Tony a glare and downed the rest of the glass in one go. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be,” Tony said, straightening and moving into the room. “She’s alive, Cap.”

“No she’s not,” Steve grit out, slamming the glass down and yanking his sleeve up viciously. “I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

Tony nodded as he ambled closer. “Yep, but funny thing, turns out soulmarks react when someone dies, but they don’t turn back when they get revived. The medical team got her heart going again in a few minutes. She’s with Helen now. The cradle, you know, it does some pretty impressive work.”

Steve stared at Tony until the other man started to shift uncomfortably. 

“Come on Rogers, this is good news, maybe try for a smile, fall apart with joy, whatever works for you.”

Still silent, Steve pulled up his other sleeve and Tony blinked. The skin that had previously been clear had stark black words on it now.

“I got a new soulmark,” Steve said thickly. “That’s not meant to happen for anybody, but I guess I get the special treatment.”

“Huh,” Tony mused, rubbing at his chin. “Lewis got a new mark too. 

***

“Maggoty cheese?” Steve recoiled at the very idea and Darcy laughed brightly.

“Yep. Super stinky, maggoty cheese.”

“That’s disgusting.”

***

_Helen monitored Darcy, reading over the reports from the cradle. It had been a week since she’d arrived and Darcy still hadn’t regained consciousness. Even with the cradle, healing wasn’t a rapid thing. It was only safe to use it for a few hours a day, and by the percentages Helen was estimating another week of sessions at least._

She couldn’t estimate when the young woman would wake up though.

Natasha had arrived on the second day and come back each day since. She’d sit by Darcy’s bedside in silence mostly, but she’d brought an iPod and speakers and often let music play. 

“It’s not healthy for you to be spending so long in here,” Helen murmured once, as Darcy was returned to her bed.

“Somebody needs to be here,” Natasha said. “Since her soulmate is wallowing and refusing to believe she still bears his words.”

Helen grimaced. “I’m not an expert in soulmarks, but her soulmark is gone. The original one, at least. He might be right.”

“Those two?” Natasha snorted. “Not a chance. I’d bet Steve’s life they’re still matched, even if the words are different.”

***

Darcy poked her tongue out at him before pulling free and going to admire the flowers, breathing the faint scent in. 

Steve took the opportunity to swipe a dollop of frosting from the side of the cake.

“I saw that,” she said. “Natasha is gonna kick your ass.”

“Well as long as you’re not going to,” Steve teased, sucking his finger clean.

“Ha! I don’t need to kick your ass. I’ve got way better ways of getting revenge.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “I’ll keep my hands off the cake, no problem.”

Darcy snickered at his instant backdown. “You’re so easy to mess with.”

***

_“Darcy is alive, she’s awake, and she wants to see you,” Natasha said, slapping Steve around the back of the head. “Stop being pigheaded and go see her. Now.”_

“Hi Nat, how are you? I’ve been better,” Steve grumbled, giving her a dirty look.

Natasha gave him her most dangerously blank look, and then in a snap of movement she had him by the ear. “I have no qualms about dragging you the whole way to her Steve. Make it easier on both of us and just do it. She wants to see you and I’m not letting you disappoint her. She’s had enough soulmate bullshit in the last few months without you making it worse.”

“She’s not my soulmate anymore Nat,” Steve sighed, trying to pull free from her iron grip. “New mark remember? Tony said she got a new one too.”

Natasha let out a string of expletives in Russian before letting out a frustrated breath. 

“If you’re not matched anymore then you both need to know it. None of the ridiculous might be, might not be that you were hanging onto before. Now move, Steve.” She tugged at his ear, making true on her threat that she would drag him along.

With a heavy sigh Steve did as she demanded, begrudgingly admitting she had a point.

He stood outside Darcy’s room nervously, watching her through the glass. She was pale and thinner than he remembered, but she was very much alive. Natasha was leaning in the hall opposite her room and Steve took a steadying breath before rapping his knuckles lightly on the door. He entered and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat when she looked at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t- I’m sorry- I’m so glad you’re alive,” he breathed.

There was a beat before a relieved smile blossomed on Darcy’s face.

“Well hey there soulmate. Good to see you.”

***

Steve let out a small growl at her tease and Darcy just laughed again. 

“I gotta grab my purse and then we should head downstairs. You’re totally carrying the cake, by the way. That way you can’t steal anymore.”

“I could just shove my face in it,” Steve said cheekily and Darcy gaped at him. 

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She moved towards her bedroom, but before she could get more than a few steps Steve was there, grabbing her tight again and sweeping her into a deep kiss. So far their touches had all been light and sweet, Darcy still nervous about diving into an intense soulmate relationship, and Steve respected that. But sometimes he wanted so much more.

Just once, he let himself make a real move.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he murmured, grinning against her lips. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you like that again for years. It’s even nicer when you’re not wrapped up in so many layers.  
He pulled back to see her brow furrowed in confusion. And then very suddenly it cleared and she gaped at him, realising what he meant.

“You shit!”


End file.
